conundrum
by suteras
Summary: Fate is cast to the winds, and there's no telling what will happen now. When a chance moment of jealousy overwhelms a young Rush, he runs away from home- only to be taken in by Wagram, and subsequently, the Conqueror. "So how old are you anyway, Conky?"
1. Prelude

_Prelude_

* * *

In another life, Rush may have actually grown to like Irina.

He may have loved her as an older brother truly would have, he may have sworn to protect her no matter the cost. They could have truly been _siblings_, friends who look _out_ for each other with a bond that could not be broken.

Instead, he grows with hatred festering in his heart.

He sees her, and he cannot bear to look at her any longer than necessary. She speaks to him, but he doesn't want to hear her words, whatever they may be. With jealousy coiling around his heart with ease, he finds that it is just as easy to pack up and leave. He knows when he's not wanted _nor_ loved and that his parents preferred Irina over him—they always will and they always _have_.

The night he _does_ leave, it is on impulse and he doesn't take anything with him. There are no thoughts pertaining to such a concern when there is a dark cloud obscuring reason, and it is this same dark cloud that pushes him to _run_, to never look back because _this isn't where he belongs_. No one wants him there, not when they have _Irina_.

He doesn't know _where_ he'll go, he doesn't pause in his running nor does he _wish_ to. His lungs are _burning_ and there is this _roaring_ in his ears that will not _stop_; no sound escapes him save the fluidity of coalesced frustration and _pain_ from the brims of his eyes and he wants this agony to _end_. He wants _love_, no matter how _childish_ the thought is. He wants a family and he wants _attention_, faces to love him and for him to love back _equally_. _Nothing_ like the people he has just left, so _obvious_ in their preference of who they love more.

_Or maybe… there's just something wrong with **me**_.

"Child. You've run far from home."

He hadn't realised he's stopped, kneeling now upon the grassy cliff overlooking the shores of Eulam. He's breathing hard, but it does not take much for him to finally lift his head.

White cloths. That is all he can make out within the blanket of darkness that is this island currently.

"Are you alone?"

_Alone_?

It is a prospect he hasn't given thought to yet, but considering the actions he's now taken, he hasn't a home to go back to. No _family_ to welcome him back. For a moment, his eyes prickle once _more_ and he's reminded of the tears that have already streaked his face. He wipes them away angrily.

No, being alone is far better than always being put _second_, unwanted and _unloved_.

The figure before him kneels to meet his level and he notes with rising curiosity how one of the other's eyes are covered with a flap. There is a thought to reach up and inspect behind it, a notion purely innocent and _impulsive_, and perhaps there's even a slight _movement_ towards it but there spreads a smile across weathered features.

"I will take your silence as a yes." The white-robed man stands suddenly, and he has the need to stand—albeit shakily—with him as well. "Come, then." A sudden movement, and the older male is whipping his hand out to the side—no, some_thing_. A… what is that? A flick of the wrist, and it expands, and the man motions to cover his lower features with it. So fixated on the new object, he does not notice the hand that is outstretched to him before it beckons in something like impatience.

"Well, boy?"

He hesitates then. Eyes drift past ivory, and he glimpses the crashing waves of the beach. It's beautiful, how the moonlight shines off the rippling textures, and in his mind he recalls picnics shared with his mother and father, remembers such awesome _moments_ and how they… _stopped_ the moment Irina came into this world.

He doesn't belong here anymore.

A hand reaches out, and takes the offer.


	2. one

_i._

* * *

_Eight years later_

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were hitting on me." There's a drawl entering Rush's tone as he lifts a cup to his lips. Tonguing the rim briefly to garner a taste of the alcohol within, dark brown hues, tinged with a vivid _green_, meet the gaze of the bartender he's had many a banter with before.

He's met with a cock of the head and a simple laugh. "Oh, as _much_ as I would _love_ to do so, being as _cute_ as you are, there's only one person my heart is ready for~" It's here the tone turns dreamy, and Rush has to roll his eyes despite a grin tugging at his lips. He knows _exactly_ who the other is talking about, for the cause of affection isn't exactly one that is well _disguised_.

"You're gonna launch into more stories, aren't you?" Rush asks dryly, but inwardly, he's _always_ curious about this one person, somehow fascinated with the _strength_ they wield and show to _all_.

The barkeep waves his hand airily. "You know me well, young sir. Lord David Nassau is quite an _extraordinary_ man— if he were to set foot in this pub once again, I think I would just _faint_ from the pleasure of seeing him!"

It's here that Rush's features scrunch up. "_Gross_." He exclaims, almost dropping his mug at the _audacity_ the other possesses. And maybe he's a little _envious_ of the shamelessness he seems to bear as well. After all, he himself isn't always _perfect_ when trying to pick someone up. Though he may ooze confidence at times, it isn't necessarily _sturdy_.

"Oh? You don't act that way around this… _Rose_ character of yours, then?" The other leans forward, a mischievous smile upon handsome features.

Immediately, a crimson tint starts to make it's way up Rush's neck, and he can only manage a half-hearted glare. "It's _Roeas_. A-and that's nasty, anyways! She's not—it's not like—!"

"You've said you had a crush on her once, when you were younger." A snicker, and the barkeep continues to wipe the mug in hand. "You were a _tad_ bit intoxicated at the time, dearie, but you _do_ remember admitting to it, right?"

_Not really_.

And he doesn't want to recall this moment _either_, if that's the case. He decides to take a large swig of his drink, and almost chokes at the burning liquid swishing down his throat.

When Rush doesn't answer, he continues. "You know, you've never told me what this chick is _like_. Share some of the _deets_, I would _love_ to hear them!"

Clearing his throat once, he puts down his mug. "What'd you wanna know?" He finally responds warily, squinting at the other. Is it him, or is his vision getting a little blurry?

"What does she look like? Blonde or brunette? Is she nice and muscular and _strong_ or is she one of those silent, _shy_ types?" He leans forward, positively _sparkling_ with enthusiasm. There's a come hither motion with his hands, _eager_ for whatever he has to say.

In spite of everything, Rush finds himself _laughing_. The thought of Roeas being _shy and silent_ really does _not_ fit her at all and he has to stifle several immature _giggles_ at the image.

Ah, shit. He's already drunk, isn't he?

"She's blonde, and she _really_ doesn't leave much to the imagination with her armour. 'Nd honestly, she's the _complete_ opposite of shy and silent. _Really_. She can literally scream your ear off in a _second_ if needed—_not_ a fun experience, I can tell you that now." He gives a short laugh, inwardly wincing at how he accidentally caught her undressing one time. While she hadn't seemed very embarrassed about it, that didn't stop her from chewing him out.

The barkeep rests his chin upon the interior of his palm, a rather _naughty_ grin upon his face. "Oh, I'm sure you can find _other_ ways to make her scream as well."

"_Gross_." Rush half-yells once more, and he really _is_ cringing at the thought now. He's embarrassed, sure, but now that he's much older, he considers her more of _sibling_ than anything else. "No thanks. You haven't drunken yourself, have you? You're acting drunk." He states flatly, attempting to steer the conversation in another direction. Although, he knows that he's not perhaps as… _smooth_ about it as he usually is. No, the alcohol is affecting him, he's _sure_.

"I _wish_, cutie. No drinking on the job, though! I'm only here to serve and please customers such as yourself—as I'm sure you know since you're a regular." A wink as the bartender sets the now-clean mug below to an unseen shelf before picking out another one to wipe.

Rush shakes his head, but stands now, albeit wobbly. "Well, _this_ regular has to retire for the night."

The other looks remarkably shocked. "Already? But it's hardly past _midnight_, cutie." He sounds a little put-out, to which Rush is surprised.

"Hey, you know I'll come by again for sure—have a drink after work, okay? On me." He flashes the other a grin and leaves enough coins to pay for himself and some.

In response, the barkeep swats at him. "You know I can get drinks for free, silly!"

"Yeah, well, take it anyways. God knows what I _won't_ do with it." Rush says airily, inwardly wishing things will stop _spinning_ for a moment, and the other nods in response, sweeping the coins to himself.

"You're always so generous—keep safe out there, you hear me?"

A hand raises in acknowledgement as Rush finally turns to leave. At this time of day, the pub tends to be _extra_ rowdy but for some reason, there's a shortage of customers.

_I guess Conky's scared off a few people, then_. He thinks dryly, but the rising presence of the Conqueror isn't exactly one to be ignored. Attacking villages and cities left and right, all in an effort to create a scene—or _whatever_ he's up to these days, Rush isn't sure—, Athlum is _bound_ to be on high alert. From what he's learned, this city is supposed to be the _decoy_ and _protector_, at it's simplest terms, for Celapaleis. Which _sucks_, really, because Athlum, from what Rush can see, is as big and their defences are _far_ stronger than Celapaleis'. What's stopping them from becoming independent?

… Then again, Rush can be interpreting things all wrong.

_And that_, he thinks wryly to himself, moving among the silent, dark streets of Athlum, _is why old Conky gets to do all the political stuff_.

He pauses when he gets to the base of the Valeria Heart.

Staring up at the mighty Remnant, he's a little in _awe_ of it's power and _age_. It's been here for _centuries_ while in comparison, Rush is young and _ignorant_, someone born under a couple of decades ago yet… he's to speak for _all_ of the Remnants? It's a task that daunts him-even after several years of knowing it-, and he wonders how he can possibly fulfil _all_ of their desires.

Stepping forward, he reaches up to the stone wall surrounding the Remnant and subsequently tries to get over it. _Tumbling_ over instead, he lands heavily in some bushes, a pained groan escaping him at the collision before he gets up, shaking his head to get rid of both the leaves and the bugs that have _most likely_ crawled into his hair. Standing slowly, he lifts his head only to pause upon realising that the Valeria Heart is _right there_ in front of him. Clearing his throat, he hastily stands, mouth parting slightly because he hasn't _dared_ to get this close to this Remnant, mostly because everyone else was always around-especially that strange Yama that would absolutely not move from his spot-but now…

_I am happy, young warden_.

Starting visibly, it takes a moment for Rush to realise that the Remnant is speaking to him. Or, at least, communicating what it _feels_. Remnants as a whole don't exactly communicate the same way mitras do, as Rush has learned. Still, he has to _somehow_ interpret what they _are_ trying to say to him.

Maybe the other Remnant reads his confusion at it's own feelings, for it sends waves of empathy and _peace_. It's… _soothing_, and he can feel himself go slightly lax at the sheer _magnitude_ at how _content_ this Remnant is.

"You're alright here, huh?" He murmurs, and rests his hand upon the warm stone. Many times he's come upon _angry_ Remnants, Remnants that want _out_, that want to be _released_ and other times they're alone and _afraid_, seeking the comfort of another. There are hardly any that radiate as much peace—if at _all_—as the Valeria Heart.

There are some Remnants, he's noted, that are not exactly _born_ to sense as much as the others. One that doesn't fail to escape his mind is the Treasure, both small and _big_ for it is a _scattered_ Remnant, one that exists all around the world in its small incarnations and Rush knows that it's most basic desires only extend to wanting something stored within it, and for someone to take it out once more. A strange desire, but Rush supposes he can roll with it.

And then… there's the Gae Bolg.

Kellendros as well—Rush has to wonder how David Nassau is even _managing_ juggling three Remnants at a time for while the Valeria Heart is content in nature, Kellendros is _wicked_. It is _sadistic_ and it's screams are _palpable_ to Rush—_wantNEEDHUNGRY**GIVEMEMORE**_—and he has to rub at his ears to try and _quell_ it. The Gae Bolg itself is silent and _watchful_, and Rush isn't too sure what _that_ one wants but…

Why is he even sensing their feelings at _all_, anyways?

"A very avid fan of the Valeria Heart, I see."

_Ah, crap_.

Putting up his hands, he turns to meet the owner of a… well, _distinct_ Athlumian accent. Or, at least, he _thinks_ it's Athlumian. He's not really sure nowadays. Still, even as he's attempting to think up a good explanation as to _why_ he's casually within touching distance of the Valeria Heart, his jaw drops upon seeing… well, upon _seeing_ the other.

He's not sure whether he's simply star-struck or simply _admiring_ how _pretty_ the other is.

From what he can remember of the barkeeps' description, the Marquis of Athlum wore two-toned panels, one blue and one red, and he has these _killer_ looks with tan skin and blonde hair…

Although the night is _heavy_ in it's darkness, Rush can still make out the colours of that uniform under the lamplights and he's a little _floored_ to say the least. What exactly is he even _doing_ out here in the first place?

"Uh, hey, there…" He says awkwardly and decides to actually go back _over_ the small stone wall that separates them right now, rather _ungracefully_ toppling over and he only _just_ manages to save himself by performing some strange _back_ hop, to which the newcomer steps back to allow him room with bemusement upon his face. Huffing, he finally straightens to face the other, and now that he's _this_ much closer he really _can_ appreciate how _nice_ the male looked. It's like he's on a _godly_ tier of attractiveness, sorta like Roeas except a _guy_ version.

Remembering that the Marquis has actually asked him a _question_, he hastens to answer it. "You could say I'm a fan, heh." And he is _technically_ telling the truth, for he _does_ admire the Valeria Heart, but perhaps in a different way than the others. "What're you doing up so late?" He rests a hand on his hip.

"I cannot sleep, though it's not unusual for me. However," A small smile curves those gorgeous lips (though it is admittedly ruined by the _caution_ that is clear within stormy hues). "What might you be doing up?"

"Eh, I'm up at this time a lot myself. You come here often, then?" A cock of his brow, before he realises what he's _said_ exactly and he's about to try and take his words back _somehow_ because _flirting_ certainly isn't on the agenda tonight but he's interrupted by a loud snort from the other male. Pausing, Rush stares, surprised.

"Not many would dare to say that to me. I must say, talking to you is quite refreshing." There's now genuine smile on the Marquis' features and Rush relaxes. Alright, so maybe he isn't as stiff as he's heard. That doesn't mean he's about to kowtow to him like it's _expected_.

Besides, David's his age, isn't he?

Grinning, he steps forward and claps him on the shoulder. He feels a tension _ripple_ out beneath his palm (and Rush cannot exactly _blame_ him; he's been told he's far too forward for some people's tastes) but David doesn't move, merely looking at him in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. "I guess we should make it a habit to talk more often then, right, Dave?"

To his amazement, David doesn't look too uncomfortable with the nickname. No, he seems far more _astonished_ than anything else but that's quickly covered up as the Marquis returns the gesture, resting a hand upon Rush's own. "It's a plan." He agrees warmly.

Suddenly, the Remnant is a little too cognizant of how close they are now. He's been blocking it out before, but he's achingly _aware_ of how much _possession_ Kellendros is practically _keening_ at him, the mental claws it's wrapping around David's very _soul_ and Rush has to wonder whether or not the other can actually _feel_ it. Either way, this is as good a time to leave than any.

Moving past David now, there's a smile in his tone as he starts to leave. "I'll catch you later then, Dave; we'll meet here again, yeah?"

There is not even a swish of his garments to indicate that David has turned to watch him. "Of course." His voice is soft in the air. "Perhaps when we do, you can tell me your name."

Rush snickers to himself, but doesn't answer. He's almost out of hearing distance anyway.

Though, perhaps not far enough for him to be ignorant of the words that come next.

"… and why Kellendros is rather desperate for me to get away from you."

* * *

"So how old are you anyway, Conky?"

There is a long-suffering sigh. "Thirty-six."

"But I thought Remnants were immortal?"

"That is what the Academy believes, and they are correct to an extent." The Conqueror stares in distaste at the greens on his plate before alternating to the wine at his side. "However, they have not yet encountered Mitran Remnants, so do not apply anything they say to us."

"Well, I have _one_ thing they can probably learn." Rush smirks at the way the other avoids one part of his plate like it's the devil. He, too, is of the same mannerism. "Veges don't really sit well with us, huh?"

"Meat is more than adequate for us. I would think the servants would have learned that by now."

"You realise that we're in an inn in the middle of nowhere, right? Which means no personally made meals for you, unless you wanna try threatening them into getting rid of all those greens for you." Rush cocks a brow at the other and starts to laugh. "And you tell _me_ to 'awaken'."

There is a heavy glare directed towards Rush but it isn't the first nor will it ever be the _last_ he'll receive from the Conqueror. Heck, he's a little surprised that he hasn't given Rush That Look in a while when he calls him 'Conky'.

"Which you are taking an insufferably long time to do." The big man intones. "I am still considering killing you so as to be done with the trouble."

"Oh, _relax_." Rush waves a chicken drumstick in the other's face, and he almost laughs _again_ at the way those blank eyes follow the meat. "I'm sure I'll do the whole awakening thing when I'm ready. Marion's Blessing isn't something to shrug off easily, y'know?"

"And that is why," The Conqueror interrupts, "I have decided to speed up the process of your awakening."

There's a sudden bout of nervousness that assaults Rush, and he pauses in the middle of chewing. "What'd'ya mean?"

"Wagram is conducting a few experiments with a certain child. I recall you referring to her as Irina."

Rush feels his heart freeze. Suddenly, he doesn't feel all that hungry anymore. "… What's he doing with her?"

"He's taking her to Dilmoor. She's to manipulate the dormant Remnant there, and see if it will respond to her power." The Conqueror looks to him when he doesn't answer. "Do not tell me you still think of her as _family_."

Immediately, Rush's fist slams into the table, and patrons around them still at the loud noise. Emotions are _riling_ up in the young Remnant so _easily_, and he finds it hard to _breathe_ suddenly. "She's no sister of mine. The Sykes aren't my family, so don't even _mention_ that word in the same sentence as _any_ of them!" in his outburst, he's stood, inhaling and exhaling _hard_ as he glares at the Conqueror. He's hardly even aware of the people around him, slowly vacating their tables in worry for their own safety, casting furtive glances at _him_ mostly, but what he _does_ notice is the palpable viridian _aura_ around his being, his Remnant powers _hissing_ in the air at the sudden summon.

"Sit down." There is a pleased atmosphere around the Conqueror, however brief but that doesn't soften his command. Reluctantly, Rush sits, the vibrancy of his powers slowly fading once more. "As I was saying, she is to release the Rubber Soul, and if she is successful, then the next test will be the Schiavona within Blackdale."

"So I'll have to meet her eventually, huh?" Rush doesn't know what to think about that. He can't even think past his anger to _begin_ with.

The Conqueror nods in response. "That is correct. Unfortunately, Marion's Blessing is not a long-range power." His tone turns slightly sarcastic.

Grumbling, Rush waves a hand. "Okay, okay, I get it." A thought settles uncomfortably in his stomach, and it is not the first time it has done so. "What's… what will I be like when awakened, anyways?"

A shrug in response. "Each warden's awakening is unique. When we go to Elysion in a month's time, I will show you where you were born."

"There are others like us, then?"

"Not anymore." He answers shortly. "The wardens' births are spread throughout several decades. However, this is the first time there have been two within the same age. I imagine that I was born to help you achieve your duty, whatever the cost."

"Woah—" Rush half-stands, and almost knocks the entire _table_ over. At a glare from the Conqueror, he hastily sits down again but leans forward in his seat. "So that means _you_ have to listen to _me_?"

"When you awaken, perhaps." The Conqueror's gaze slide to the side as if in irritation. "For now, I advise you _not_ to try to command me."

"How do you know I'm not awakened _now_?" It's a question that's been riding upon Rush's mind ever since he'd been _told_ about his _real_ origins. Sure, he feels _strange_ sometimes, but there's nothing indicating that he's about to _awaken_ in any shape or form. "I mean, I can access some of my powers and I can sense Remnants as well-!"

"Not _all_ of it." The Conqueror interjects, and his gaze slips to him once more. "The majority of your power and the memories you should have grown up with are crucial to your awakening, and yet they are _missing_."

"So I should've been like you, huh?" There's some deflation in Rush at the reminder, but he's also angry at the manipulation done to him when he was a mere _infant_.

"Somewhat. I came into being knowing what I had to do and what I had to take care of. I existed knowing I had to help you. What I did not expect was for you to be completely _useless_ when I came." He shakes his head in remembered agitation. "I decided to launch my own plans regardless so they would not rely on the prowess you are expected to have."

"So you wouldn't have come for me at all then?" For some reason, there's a hollow feeling in his chest at the thought, and he already knows what the other is going to say before he even _thinks_ it.

The Conqueror's stare becomes hard. "'Family' is a concept mankind has made for themselves. You would do well to discard it."

Rush falls silent then, and wonders if it really _is_ just a Mitran thing.

_Stupid stupid stupid._

_Family doesn't matter_. _You shouldn't care about family. You shouldn't care about even _wanting_ one at all_.

The Conqueror looks away then, and Rush is inwardly glad he doesn't have to lie straight to his face.

Upon the ensuing quiet, it's only _then_ that the younger warden looks around, confusion apparent upon his features. "Wait—where'd everyone go?"

"You scared them off." The other remarks, and finally decides to take a large chunk off the meat in his hand. It's a _little_ awkward, waiting for him to continue and Rush manages to distract himself with playing with the vegetables on his plate until he's ready to speak again. "Do not go into Ghor any time soon. No doubt your little display earlier has everyone on high alert."

"As if _you're_ one to talk." Rush replies, a little irked now. "What's up with you attacking every village or city that comes on your radar?"

"Merely a distraction for the Lords." The Conqueror says, and blank eyes come to rest upon him once more. "We would not want Wagram's experiment to go awry. With the kidnapping of the daughter of one of the most famous families in the world, there's no doubt it would cause uproar. Without the war that I have been nurturing, it would be nigh impossible for Wagram to continue as he pleases since every Lord would be on his back."

"… Wow." Rush says, a bit floored from the revelation. "So… so all that is just for me to…?"

"Bear in mind that this is not just about you." The other interrupts before Rush can finish his thought, but Rush is admittedly _relieved_ to hear that; to think that so much unrest going on is just for the sole purpose of getting him to _awaken_… he would rather die first. A thought that is, undoubtedly, rather _unwarden_-_like_, and so he keeps it to himself. "There is a certain artefact that the Sykes are keeping to themselves that I would like to have. Wagram is to require it before long, in exchange for Irina."

"And what exactly does this artefact do?"

"It puts Remnants into a deep sleep, effectively turning them into Talismans. In other words, I can use it to unbind Remnants if need be."

For a moment, Rush stares at him. He struggles to find _some _way to communicate what he's thinking. "Wait… so you guys don't really need me at all, do you?"

"Not for now." The Conqueror puts it bluntly, and Rush cannot help but visibly flinch. "You are currently useless unless you awaken. Until then, do not do anything foolish."

"Right." He replies quietly, and wonders at the sting at the back of his eyes. "Right, well, I guess I better disappear for a while then, huh?"

The other looks at him impassively and there is not an ounce of sympathy within such a gaze, nor does he deign to answer.

Unwilling to let another moment pass by with this small lump in his throat, Rush stands and leaves.


	3. two

_ii._

* * *

He makes good use of some of the abilities that the Conqueror has taught him, enough so to make him land once more in Athlum the same day a few hours before midnight. No doubt the other warden is planning to do the same, for Rush is cognizant that the march has stopped just before fully engaging with Ghor, the first major city that will be attacked.

All in all, Rush is sure that he's more nervous about it than the Conqueror will ever be.

Still, it doesn't stop him from visiting the local pub once again, and the Barkeep is more than happy to see him.

"Give me, like, maybe ten mugs of your strongest drink." Rush says dryly the moment he enters. As expected, it's empty like the night before and so he slides into his favourite stool without fail, purposely banging his forehead upon the wood hard.

Immediately, the other fusses over him. "You're into that 'like' phase again, cutie?" He croons, but gently grasps and lifts Rush's head so as to steady him and he's truly grateful for the action. If not for the other's presence, it's likely he will have kept on banging his head upon the hard surface.

"Something like that." Rush remarks dryly, and accepts the drink poured for him, downing it immediately. He finishes it within three gulps flat. Refilling the mug once more, the other gives him a dubious expression.

"If you drink too much, you'll get sick." He chides even as Rush is going for a _second_ helping already. A grin's already sloppily making it's way across youthful features, and he gestures the barkeep for more.

"Maybe. But then you'd be outta business." A laugh is pulled from the other at this, but Rush has to _really_ try and look at him now for he really _is_ a lightweight, he can't _deny_ that at all. "Say, what's your name?" He strangely cannot recall whether he's asked this before.

"José, cutie." He winks, seemingly undaunted by the question, but there's a worried line pulling across his brow, though the cause is something else completely. "Anything else I can get for you before you drink yourself silly?"

"Not gonna ask me for my name back, huh?" Rush asks, though there's a smirk curving his lips.

José cocks his head. "Only if you're willing—you seemed like the mystery type, but should I be prodding?"

Rush considers. On one hand, he supposes he should be extra cautious with his identity. On the other hand, what's the harm?

… He really shouldn't jinx himself, should he?

"It's Rush." Alright, he hadn't meant to lean in and _whisper_ but he supposes it's his drunkenness that's doing the acting for him. And he _may_ have voluntarily raised a forefinger vertically to his lips and made a hushing sound towards the other, to which José giggles at in pure amusement. He doesn't give out his second name—people who don't have one don't necessarily have _families_, after all.

He wonders what family _José_ has, but figures he'll ask him at a later date.

_One step at a time_. He tells himself, though what it is in regards to, he's not entirely sure.

* * *

The next two hours are incredibly _blurry_.

It's only up to the fifth drink he's downed that he can remember up to, but the rest is wholly _forgotten_. He can recall a _lot_ of laughing and perhaps more than a few inappropriate touching that he would_ not_ have done ordinarily. The other guy behind the bar—the assistant maybe? Rush isn't too sure—had gotten involved at one point, and they even went together over to the corner where a noble had fallen asleep on the chair and pulled a prank. Even now, he can't really _remember_ what they'd done to get the noble yelling obscenities at them and running out the pub altogether but it'd been _hilarious_, he's sure, especially if it involved a marker and a cup of warm water.

Still, the moment it hit around midnight he remembered, almost _immediately_, that he had an appointment to keep. Saying farewell to the two behind the bar (and emptying the better part of his coin bag, he's sure), he manages to stumble out of the pub, and is immediately buffeted with a wave of cold air. _Nausea_ roils in his stomach then, but he wholly ignores it and stands for a moment upon the stone ground, attempting to ground himself once more. Strangely, the cold completely got rid of the drunkenness that assaulted him before, but it doesn't do the same wonders for the fact that he felt like puking up the entirety of his stomach.

Now, he walks up to the Valeria Heart, and is slightly disappointed to not see those shades of red and blue waiting for him.

"It's a stupid hope anyway." He mutters to himself, for it really _is_. Did he actually expect the Marquis of Athlum to be waiting for _him_, a _stranger_? Even after one tiny little meeting? It's ridiculous how much Rush truly _wished_ for David to show up, and now he feels a little foolish.

"Maybe I'm just…" A sigh escapes him, and he shakes his head. Lonely? Desperate? He hasn't seen Roeas in _ages_ and he has no doubt that she's locked in mortal combat somewhere down south as per the Conqueror's orders along with Castanea. The Conqueror himself… well, Rush only saw him just a few hours ago, and even _that_ meeting hadn't gone well, in his own opinion. Before that, he hadn't seen the guy for the better part of a _year_. Apparently, the sentiment of missing him hadn't been returned at all.

José is perhaps one of the few friends Rush really has, along with a chick called Nora, whom he's seen wandering around the town and has met with—or rather _bumped into_—a few times, and each time Rush found the need to drag her into a conversation. Mostly because… well, it certainly mustn't be _easy_ living with a Remnant inside of her.

… And that's it, really. Rush's face twists into a grimace. He hadn't really realized how much he's been lacking in company—he's _really_ taken it for granted, especially when growing up in Veyriel. Now there—_there_ he's had the pleasure of being with a _lot_ of people, enjoying their company because in a backwater village like that, they _have_ to stick together. Since the Conqueror's kicked him out to 'gain some experience', he has no idea what to do on the whole companionship front.

Without noticing it, he'd circled around to get closer to the Valeria Heart once more, seeking _some_ kind of comfort. He doesn't necessarily want to climb over the short stone wall surrounding it again, just in case he gets _caught_ somehow, like last time. Still, that doesn't deter the larger Remnant's presence. _Already_ he can feel it's effect, wrapping around him like a soothing balm and there are soft croons of _peace_, of _safety_ and _security_ that Rush needs and he willingly moves into it, sighing as he sits on the ground.

"What do you think?" He asks the Valeria Heart aloud. "I mean, I know that I'm not… I'm not _entirely_ Mitra but I thought I'd be able to make a lotta connections 'round here, whether or not they're Remnants. But… do I want friendship _that_ much? Am I really that _desperate_ for… a family?" A loud exhale escapes him, and he lies back onto the cold stone, resting his arms behind his head as a cushion. It's cold, but he finds that temperature tends not to affect him. "Maybe I… really _should_ abandon Mitran concepts. Like what old Conky said. It'd save me a fair bit of heartache, I reckon." He gives a dry laugh, but starts at the prod that the Valeria Heart gives to him, a _reprimand_ of sorts, as if _disagreeing_ with what he's saying—no, he's _sure_ that's what it's saying to him.

Sitting up again, he looks to the Valeria Heart, stretching up _far_ above him and has to give a bemused expression towards it.

_You're not trying hard enough_. Or, at least, that's what it _sounds_ like it's saying. There's disdain and encouragement rolled into one, and that's the only thing he can really think of.

"You think so?" He asks aloud, deciding to cement his interpretation, but settles back to lie down once more, contemplating it's words. Maybe the Valeria Heart is right—he really _isn't_ trying hard enough. Should he put himself more out there? But then, that'd _really_ go against what the Conqueror is warning him about. If he ever got caught and/or detained, then he's sure the guy wouldn't even _bother_ trying to bust him out.

Still… is it worth the risk?

There's a mischievous feeling from the Valeria Heart, and he has to laugh aloud.

"Well, whatever you say. Or feel." A pause, before he gets up yet _again_ and decides to jump over the stone wall once more, pressing his palm flat against the smooth stone surface and feeling the pulsating warmth there. "Thank you." He murmurs, and bows his head.

"You really are fond of the Valeria Heart, aren't you?" Soft footsteps and Rush recognizes that voice immediately, even the _possessiveness_ that comes with the Remnant. Grinning to himself, he has to restrain from whooping at the other's appearance despite the more palpable,_ sour_ presence that came with it. He feels the Heart's encouragement nonetheless (and even feels it batting _back_ Kellendros, which Rush is grateful for), and he clambers back over the stone wall once more, not relenting in his smile as he looks to David.

"It's helped me a lot already." He confesses, and cannot refrain from examining the other's features closely. Is it just him, or does David look more exhausted than last time? "What's up with you, though?" He cannot keep the worry out of his voice.

The other seems a little taken aback at such a question before he composes himself once more. "Meetings upon meetings." He replies dryly. "I apologize if I am late at all—the last one took an hour more than it was supposed to."

"Woah, I didn't think you'd be _that_ busy. At least, not 'till this time of night." Rush leans forward slightly. "You ever heard of a thing called a 'vacation'?"

A laugh ensues from the Marquis, and the smile remains even as he shakes his head. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Not for at least a year."

Rush whistles. "You need to take a break, man. I know you love your city but you must be _super_ tired." There's a small wave of his arms so as to emphasis his concerns.

If anything, David seems to be more amused by Rush's antics than taking the idea into consideration. "Perhaps. But I doubt I will have the opportunity to do so any time soon." The smile fades, and his eyes becoming a little more fixated upon Rush. "Have you heard of the Sykes daughter's kidnapping? And the Conqueror?"

_Crap_.

Rush isn't a good liar. He knows this _fully_ but he cannot entirely _run_ from this conversation. _This_ is what he gets for trying to befriend the Marquis of Athlum, he guesses.

From the side, he feels another wave of mischief from the Valeria Heart, and he has to restrain from casting a glare at it.

"Sorta." He settles for a less dangerous option, a more _open-ended_ one. A hand rises to the back of his head, and he rubs it awkwardly, feeling his eyes avert from such an intense gaze _already_ despite the fact he hasn't even _started_ lying yet. "What about it?"

To his relief, David starts to pace which breaks whatever remaining eye contact there was between them (however _one-sided_ it was). He decides to lift his vision once more, if only to watch how he moves. "The Conqueror's army and Ghor's own troops are locked in a stalemate. Currently, there are heavy debates on whether or not Nagapur should send reinforcements."

Rush tries his best to follow. "Why are they even debating? Isn't the Conqueror a threat to them too?"

A thin smile spreads across David's lips now, and he finally stops. Thankfully, he directs his gaze to the Valeria Heart as he answers him. "Unfortunately, Duke Hermeien is rather stubborn. He believes that if Ghor delays the Conqueror enough, he'll be able to build sufficient defences to withstand any attack the Conqueror makes. If he decides to aid the Duke of Ghor, he will have to send the majority of his troops to make a lasting dent in the enemy's army. However, on the off-chance that things go wrong and Ghor falls, then Nagapur will be next, most likely, and since the troops that have been sent to defend Ghor are gone in that initial assault, Nagapur will be left mostly defenceless and they are liable to being taken if the Conqueror so chooses that to be his next move."

_I_, Rush thinks with a staggeringly _large_ amount of relief, _am _so_ glad I'm not the Conqueror_. It sounds like _far_ too much work, and to be responsible for that amount of _people_… Rush doesn't think he's entirely _ready_ for that yet. How does David even _manage_?

"What… what about Celapaleis? Or even you? Can't you guys send troops?" He asks, and _really_ hopes he's not sounding ignorant.

Thankfully, David doesn't look irritated at his words. "Celapaleis is too far to send troops. The time they would take to get to Ghor would be long enough for the Conqueror to find out and launch his assault early. " He lifts a hand and runs it through golden tresses, shaking the stress out. "As for myself… I would go, but I have been personally asked a favour by someone in high-standing. I would be a fool to decline. Yet, neither will I risk Athlum to the mercy of the Conqueror in my absence, so I would leave all my troops here."

"A… personal favour?" Rush asks, oblivious to how _forward_ the request to _know_ may be but David does not seem to mind too much. He has a _feeling_, but…

"Indeed." David answers shortly, and pauses for a full moment, long enough for Rush to awkwardly wonder whether he'll actually _tell_ him what this favour is. As he's debating whether or not to excuse himself for the night, the Marquis finally continues, looking to Rush once more, and the Mitran Remnant finds he cannot avert his eyes this time. "Marina Sykes happens to be a good friend of one of my Generals, Emma Honeywell." Rush's throat tightens up inexplicably, and he can already _tell_ where this is going. He almost wishes he can disappear into the ground right about now.

David continues, oblivious to his inward distress. "She has personally asked for us to find her daughter Irina. It is a… rather _large_ responsibility, I must admit, for if I fail, then it means I fail Athlum."

_Of course_.

Rush is _incredibly_ grateful when David turns away from him, for he _really_ cannot help the sudden burst of _light_ that flares from his eyes, cognizant of this because of the sudden _power_ that flares up in response to his anger. Fists clench excruciatingly _hard_ and he has to force himself to breathe deeply and calmly so as to not lash out. It isn't entirely _David's_ fault, but he _is_ right there for Rush to yell obscenities at. However, Rush will_ not_ let himself reduce to that, and so he painfully _forces_ himself to keep a peaceful façade, no matter how much he wishes to _rage_ at the fact that Irina, once _more_, is taking the things he _enjoys_ from his life. As if their parents weren't enough, but now_ David_? A possible friend when Irina probably had _hundreds_ of them?

He can imagine, then, the lack of effort the Sykes went through to try and find _him_ when he went missing. But when _Irina_ goes missing, oh, they have to call the leader of a _city_ to do it for them. They decide to use their status and _resources_ to do it and did they even do that for _Rush_?

Some part of Rush is ashamed that he still even _bears_ this grudge. Despite everything, he still loves his parents with his very being, and to an extent, he may even love _Irina_. But right now… there's this seething mass of _hatred_ for them, _stronger_ than whatever love lingers, and it's hard to even look_ past_ that to the reason that may lie beyond.

"Why are you telling me this?" Rush wonders aloud through numb lips, and he winces inwardly at how dead his tone currently sounds.

Apparently, David doesn't notice, his gaze fixated upon the vast streak of stone extending to the clouds. He doesn't say anything for a full moment, and Rush is starting to get used to these periods of silence. However, what the Marquis _does_ decide to say completely _floors_ him.

"I want you to come with me."

It takes all of Rush's willpower not to gape as David turns back to him once more, but even _that_ willpower isn't enough to stop his jaw from dropping from sheer _shock_ at the unexpected offer. "W_-what?!_"

David looks vaguely amused at Rush's reaction, but it quickly fades as seriousness takes his tongue once more. "You did not hear me incorrectly. I want you to join me."

Already, Rush has _several_ ideas on the _flaws_ of that very notion. "But-But we've hardly even _known_ each other for more than a day!" His tone is _beyond_ incredulous. "Maybe like _less_ than an hour, actually."

At this, David laughs. "On the contrary, we've now known each other for an hour and fifteen minutes."

Rush has to gawk. _Again_. "That's still _less than a day_."

The other tilts his head slightly. "Are you not a mercenary?" At Rush's prolonged, confused stare he has to chuckle. "I am the Marquis of Athlum. I know who comes in and out of my city, and I know every resident from the most elderly to the newborns. The newcomers are almost always mercenaries, looking to be hired at the Union." He frowns then, reconsidering Rush now. "Unless… you travel here occasionally because you merely _feel_ like it?"

Rush feels strangely _defensive_ all of a sudden. It's not like that's… _bad_, right? "So what if I do?" He asks, slightly miffed.

It's David's turn to look surprised. "But… there's an increase in monster activity—not many people travel because they feel the _need_ to."

Ah, crap. There goes the credibility in saying he can't actually fight as an excuse _not_ to join him. "I… just like to wander?" He says lamely, rising a hand to the nape of his neck to rub at it awkwardly. It's not exactly a _lie_.

"No matter." David says, and he holds out his hand, a warm smile upon his features now. "Will you join me? I still do not know your name but… you have the experience, I can tell. I am willing to offer any amount of gold, if you'll take it."

Rush hesitates.

On one hand, it'll be _good_ to make connections, to not be_ alone_. Companionship is something he's been looking for, after all, and he can _feel_ the Valeria Heart nudging him in approval of this train of thought. On the _other_ hand, however…

There are _far_ too many risks to be had. Firstly, he'll be going _against_ the Conqueror, someone he should be _helping_. Secondly, he's told Rush to stand down, to keep it on the down low so as to not be discovered and while it kills Rush to do that, he can see the sense in it. And thirdly… _thirdly_…

No. He'll not be helping Irina. He'll be _damned_ before he ever does that.

The Valeria Heart wails it's dismay in his mind, and the contentment is broken in both it and him for a moment. It seems to have affected David as well, for his smile begins to fade. As much as Rush wishes to bring it _back_, every sense he possesses _screams_ at him to _leave now_ because he cannot _afford_ get any deeper in this than he already has.

"Sorry." He mutters, averting his gaze down as he steps back. "I just… can't." Maybe in another life, he would have taken that offer, if it ever came down to it. Now, however, there's far too much at stake, for himself _and especially_ the Conqueror. He curses himself as David nods, lowering his hand. He's a good guy. Unfortunately, they'll probably have to fight each other somewhere down the road, because if David's getting involved with Irina, then it's likely that Rush will have to step in at _some_ point.

"I understand." David says with measured grace, and the smile upon his lips seems thinner now, less warm. "I apologize for springing that onto you so suddenly. I will take my leave now, if there's nothing more to discuss."

_Discuss_. Apparently, David thought this was some kinda business deal and that they actually agreed to meet here so as to sort out something between them, not_ just_ as friends. Or maybe Rush has lured him into thinking that way. _Or_ maybe David's way too hurt to admit that…?

Rush forcibly shakes himself inwardly. _Now_ he's just getting carried away. Who is he to assume anything about the Marquis?

Still, David's walking away. David's walking _away_ and there's_ nothing_ present upon Rush's tongue to ask him to come back so maybe they can just _talk_ or _chat_ but he's sure the other has some pressing matters to attend to, like _sleeping_ for instance because Rush is sure he'll be heading out once more in a few hours to pursue Irina and…

The Valeria Heart _pushes_ him.

Stumbling slightly, Rush manages to speak through trembling lips, actually surprised he's able to speak at _all_. "Hey, uh, Dave!" There's relief blossoming in him when the other pauses and half-turns to listen. "Can… can we meet up here again later? I mean, when you're done with your favour and all. I'd like to… talk with you some more, if that's okay." He says awkwardly, and his heart is beating so damn _fast_ that he has to hold his breath, hoping it isn't _loud_ in the silence of the town square. When David doesn't answer in a while, he starts to panic. _Already_ he's lost a potential friend. It's a sign that maybe he _shouldn't_ pursue any companionship after this; maybe he should become a hermit and just live on his own until he _awakens_ or something-!

"I would like that." David says finally, and Rush almost collapses in relief. "Perhaps within three days? I imagine I'll be finished with my task by then."

"Yeah!" Rush says, and feels embarrassed when he hears that his voice is just a little _higher_ than usual from the flood of emotion. Clearing his throat hurriedly, he nods his head despite the fact that David cannot see it. "Yeah, I'll be here." And maybe an incentive? A smirk curves his lips as he mentions it. "And if you're here as well, then I'll _definitely_ tell you my name."

He can almost_ feel_ the smile upon David's face, and he wants to just_ die_ from how much tension he's wracked by from this. "Agreed." The Marquis answers simply, and starts to walk off once more, a hand waving idly back. "I will see you in a few days' time then."

When David finally disappears, Rush casually just collapses in a heap to the ground. Peeking up at the Valeria Heart, he both wants to thank _and_ curse it.

As if in response, the Remnant merely tingles with glee.

* * *

For the next few days, Rush does absolutely _nothing_ towards the twilight hours of the day.

The first two nights are spent drinking himself senseless in the pub until the early hours of the morning. _Not_ so ace, considering he's now being a complete _bum_. He can't exactly recall the last time he's had a bath, and he must smell_ really_ bad if José actually couldn't _bear_ speaking to him on the second night. He decides to leave the pub early and maybe rent a room at the local inn so as to get a _proper_ cleaning.

What he _doesn't_ expect to see—or rather, _who_—is…

"Roeas?!" He's halfway through pulling his top off before he even _realises_ the woman is there, standing beside the doorway like some _creeper_ and he has half a mind to tell her that before she raises a finger to her lips. Quieting down, he moves to lock the door before reluctantly putting his shirt back on and flopping on the bed.

"I hope you do not treat _every_ woman who enters your room this way." She begins dryly, and moves over to sit next to him, crossing her legs and Rush is incredibly _aware_ of how _much_ skin she's currently revealing with her clothing. While he's gotten used to it, he's still not entirely _comfortable_ sitting near her or being anywhere _near_ her while she's in _that_ outfit. Looking down her nose at him-which is wrinkling rather _violently_ now-she continues with rising disgust. "Then again, I imagine no one will _want_ to enter considering how _atrocious_ you smell."

"Yeah, yeah." Rush waves her off with a hand before getting up once more, noting in amusement when she leans back so as to escape whatever stench he's putting off. "Lemme get washed first, alright? Then we can talk 'bout why the heck you're even here."

Roeas snorts at this, but allows him to do as he wants, deciding to settle on the bed with ease as he quickly shuts himself in the adjacent bathroom. Not wanting to take _too_ long, he quickly strips and bathes, _finally_ emerging from the room to find Roeas has completely disappeared. For a moment, he stands in complete confusion because she can't have possibly decided to _ditch_ him right after seeing him? He'll admit that he's _really_ missed her, despite her unexpected presence and there's a sinking feeling in his gut at the thought that maybe she's left once more.

"Afraid, boy?" Almost _immediately_, Rush stumbles in shock as she appears right before him, smirking with a hand on her hip. Losing his balance from the sheer _surprise_ garnered from her trick, he falls back on his rear, a yelp accompanying his fall. As he regains his senses, it takes a moment for him to realise she is _laughing_ at him—albeit in that _imperious_ way she's adopted—and another moment to realise that she's offering out her hand for him to take.

Slowly starting to grin, he clasps her hand and she hauls him up with more strength than he expects and he's almost sent careening down to the ground again before she steadies him with a hard hand to his chest. There's a moment's pause before Rush decides to just _go_ for the desire twinkling in the back of his head—Roeas can murder him later.

Wrapping his arms fully around the woman, he buries his face into her shoulder and smells sweat and the acrid burn of Mystic Arts, the telltale signs of _battle_ but he doesn't care. He really _has_ missed her and he's not ashamed to show that. To his surprise, Roeas doesn't throw him off straight away, but instead he feels the pressure of her hand on his head and he's sorely _content_ at that, glad he finally has contact with a childhood _friend_, of sorts.

Just when he thinks she'll actually let them stay like this, she moves away, straightening her one bang in feigned contempt. "Do not mention that to anyone, boy." She says in disdain, and Rush has to snicker in response.

"Aw, c'mon, I can't be the only one to miss everyone! Even old Conky was all… stiff and I haven't seen him _way_ longer than you and Castanea—" At the reminder, he looks around before realising that the big guy probably wouldn't be able to _fit_ in this small room. "Where is he, anyway? Aren't you guys joined at the hip?" Almost _literally_ maybe, because he _always_ sees them together and he's teased Castanea on the side about liking Roeas to which he mostly grunts back in response, obviously not amused at the prospect. Still, Rush can't really think of anyone else who'd be perfect for Roeas.

Or maybe, he's just entertaining these types of notions too much.

_You would do well to cast aside those Mitran concepts_—

Shucks.

"He is marching to Elysion, posing as the Conqueror." She responds, seemingly expecting such a question; Rush himself has no idea of _that_ part of the plan—this is ultimately news to him, but he can see _why_ Castanea can masquerade as the Conqueror. Still, weren't they about to assault Ghor? Or is that another plan Rush isn't allowed to know about? He decides not to even say anything, certain he'll just get no answers anyway. Roeas returns to her post by the bed, sitting down once more and crossing her legs. Similarly, Rush decides to just plop down on the chair by the entrance, guessing that there's gonna be _some_ kind of talk coming now.

"Rush." Roeas starts slow, and he feels like he's in some sorta _therapy_ session. "The Conqueror told me to speak to you."

_Here it comes. _He cannot help a sour expression.

"He's aware of your… daily visits to Athlum, and he certainly doesn't care whether you drink your face off each night." She says this with such a brisk tone, and Rush has a feeling as to where this is going. "However, it's come to his attention that you've begun… fraternizing with the Marquis."

Bingo.

"Rush." She leans forward in her makeshift seat, eyes intent upon his own and he squirms uncomfortably. "What are you intending to do with such a relationship?"

And _that_ isn't something he expects. "W-what?" What exactly are they thinking?

"I mean," A drawl enters her tone now. "Are you intending to use your relations with the Marquis to your advantage? Are you intending to find out certain information to use against them in the future?" A cock of her head, but at Rush's prolonged, _shocked_ silence, her lips thin, seraphic features now hardening. "Surely you aren't trying to make _friends_." There's a dry twitch to her mouth now. "You _know_ that is not your duty."

"So what if I am?" He says defensively, crossing his arms. Is it really that _bad_? "So what if every little thing I do isn't actually _related_ to my duty-!"

Suddenly, there is keen steel at his throat.

Roeas is in front of him now, standing to the side of him and he's unsure whether or not she actually teleported to get there. The fact remains, however, that she's actually _holding a knife_ to his _throat_ and he has honestly no _idea_ how to react. On one hand, he's certain she won't actually _kill_ him but on the other…

Well, _anything_ for the _Conqueror_.

His teeth clench together, but he makes no move to defend himself. He absolutely _refuses_ to hurt her, even if she wants to hurt him or even _kill_ him. Maybe it's a little foolish of him, but perhaps they'll never understand how much he actually considers them _all_ as a family.

"My Lord Conqueror instructed me to kill you should you ever say anything along those lines." She murmurs into his ear, and he has to shudder at the _promise_ within them, _not at all_ a mere threat. She intends to go through with such a command, and he _tenses_, waiting for _some_ impact before _blood_ begins spilling across the floor and _really_, he _knows_ he should have expected this, knows that the Conqueror would have _eventually_ gotten sick of him but to do so in _this_ kinda matter, it isn't exactly _nice_, **really**—!

Roeas slips her knife away once more.

She steps back, and there is a haughty smirk upon her lips as Rush lets out a loud, harsh gasp, a hand automatically reaching up to his throat to feel for any wound. Shaking her head, there's disdain _clear_ within her tone. "Wrong move, boy. You're to fight for your life, not give up at a moment's notice."

"But… but I—" Ah, crap, he _already_ feels a slight sheen prickling at his eyes and he blinks rapidly so as to calm himself. No wonder he hasn't been put on the field yet, despite how much he actually _wants_ to be.

"Disregard any of our concepts of love. Disregard any and _all_ thoughts and desires for family, for a place to _belong_." Roeas tells him coldly now, and she turns away from him. "You are not a Mitra, you are a Remnant. You have to _awaken_."

Suddenly, there's a flare of _anger_ at those words and he gets up, arms furiously gesturing as if to emphasize his points. "But _that's not me_! I _haven't_ awakened yet, I feel—I _want_ a family. I want people to lean on, I'm _just like a Mitra_, whether you guys like it or not! I can't get rid of it—I don't know _how_ to!" The frustration is steadily taking over his _mind_ and as much as he wants to live up to their standards of being some kind of ultimate _warden_ he really _can't_. "All my life—all the years spent with you guys are the _best_ I've ever had. I didn't want war; I didn't _want_ to grow into my duty—_whatever_ that was! I was _happy_. Why did that have to change?!" Maybe it's a tantrum he's kept within for so _long_ but it felt _good_ to let it out, even if it isn't at the _right_ person but at least _she'll_ be able to understand, right?!

For a moment, he expects Roeas to slap him. Actually, he expects her to punch him then just _stab_ him like originally intended. What she does _instead_, however, surprises him.

She stares at him for a long while, enough to make him fidget for he cannot even _begin_ to place her expression. Lips part, and she looks as if she's about to say something but she pauses _again_ and he has to wonder what to _do_ now, unwilling to interrupt whatever train of thought she's on.

When she finally moves, she takes his hand, holding it in both of her own. Kneeling before Rush, there's now a pensive frown upon her features, and she looks down at his palm, studying it with the intensity of a soldier before a war plan. "You do not remember, then, truly." She says plainly. Rush is half-relieved that she speaks at _all_ but it's ever so vague that he almost snaps at her.

"What-?" He begins, exasperated, but she quiets him with a piercing look.

"You're scared." She's as vague as _ever_ but there's a strange _chord_ struck inside him, one that _resonates_ despite being so _weak_ and—it _fades_ not a moment later. Confusion blossoms within him, but she doesn't give him an answer. Standing, she lets go of his hand before moving away once more.

"I will tell the Conqueror that you are not well." She says smoothly, and reaches for the helmet set previous unnoticed upon the bedside table. It hasn't really _registered_ with him at all but she had her helmet off the whole time. Maybe he's just way too used to seeing her without one at all. "When he appears again, do not be empty-handed."

"What do you mea-?" He breaks off mid-sentence, already half-reaching out for her but she's gone within an _instant_, her teleportation rather _handy_ in this case. Groaning to himself, he flops onto the bed, rolling to stuff his face into the pillow.

-And he _screams_.

Ultimately, it's muffled but he repeatedly punches the mattress on either side of his head with his fists, even going so far as to awkwardly kick at the bed as well. He can't _help_ it—he doesn't know what to do or even _say _ in this kinda situation. The one person he'll ever _want_ to vent to just teleported right _out_ of his room and if he chose to go to anyone else, any other _friend_, it'll only be incredibly _risky_. No, the only _real_ option is to try and just… _deal_ with it. He's not sure how he'll be able to, considering the need to blurt all his troubles out, to seek comfort and _guidance_ somehow but—

But…

In the end, he just lies there. He doesn't even have the energy to scream anymore.

_Just what the hell am I supposed to do?!_

* * *

A/N: I know there's a lot of dialogue but... okay ther'es no real reason for it other than interactions but! the plot of this will thicken in a few chapters or so so please bear with me! Lemme know what y'all think in reviews if you enjoyed it! Either way, the next chapter should come out soon since I've already written it and such lkajsf. Have a lovely day/night!


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